


Excuses

by blazichu



Category: Ratchet and Clank
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-28
Updated: 2011-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blazichu/pseuds/blazichu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well "Until they found his family" might not have been the best way to phrase it. So, what DID happen after Aphelion took off, anyway? Series of ACiT oneshots. Plenty of spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Excuses

It was all just an excuse, really…

Clank knew that, he wasn't ashamed of it, either. His final words to Sigmund had still been honest, however. He was _not_ going to leave Ratchet alone, again. Aside from all of the property damage that this would prevent, there was a perfectly good reason for that… but for right now…

The little robot wasn't even sure where they'd ended up docking to rest, and he doubted his organic companion had really cared as they'd landed. That same lombax was currently sprawled out awkwardly in his seat, completely unconscious.

Disconcerting, however, was the fact that one hand constantly crept up to his collarbone, settling, without fail, right over the decal on his armor. No matter how many times it was moved away- intentionally, by the concerned mech, or via restless movement in slumber- it was only a matter of minutes before the same situation cropped back up.

Sighing, Clank finally gave up; it had been a long and harrowing day, it was best to let sleeping lombaxes lay…

The long and harrowing day in question, however, happened to hold the prize as- simultaneously- one of the best and worst days of the miniscule robot's life. It _shouldn't_ have come as a surprise, given some of the paradoxes he'd faced in the last few days, but it certainly was odd.

On one hand, he'd made a great friend, found out a great deal pertaining to his own existence, and, above all, been reunited with the fuzzball he called his closest companion… but opposite of all that, he'd essentially _failed_ in his duty, helped tear parts of the galaxy asunder…

…and he'd seen Ratchet _die_.

That look of dumbfounded shock was burnt into his memory banks, and try as the bot might, he was having a hell of a time ridding himself of it. Sure, there had been double-crosses in the past, and Clank himself hadn't been completely sure what to think of 'General Azimuth', but Ratchet had trusted the other lombax implicitly. Despite Alister's belated apologies, the robot would never truly forgive him for putting them both through that.

But…in a way, he'd atoned for his crime. It had been General Azimuth who had repaired the damage done to the Great Clock, at the cost of his own life. Had this not been the case, there was little doubt in Clank's mind that he'd currently be facing an error so critical as to make Nefarious's mental state read like a book by Qwark.

The mech glanced over to where the memento of the senior lombax lay, nearly forgotten. It was open, and two pairs of eyes stared blankly at him. Aside from a brief explanation when he'd asked about it, Clank knew virtually nothing about the locket-like contraption.

"Just like his father…" The bot murmured to himself, "…I do not see it."

Ratchet…was _just_ Ratchet, nobody else. It was absurd that Azimuth couldn't see past the younger lombax's supposed resemblance to his father.

He'd grown up as the last of his kind; he started off in this crazy war of morals as a sarcastic, borderline bitter mechanic…but had grown to become a genuine hero. There was absolutely no way that this Kaden could match that.

In fact… the lombax had matured even further since their last adventure together… It made Clank wonder how long he'd been malfunctioning…or maybe how much trouble Ratchet had gotten himself into, since it took a Cragmite invasion for him to learn his lesson last time. After all, it took a lot of patience to deal with Qwark on a regular basis…for Ratchet, especially, he had to have been truly determined… or possibly blackmailed.

But the fact remained, it was a huge gesture, and despite it's bizarre nature, Clank found himself touched… Which brought him back to his decision…

Azimuth had confirmed his suspicions, in all that frustrated shouting, that _both_ of Ratchet's parents were long deceased… but he hadn't been lying to Sigmund, when he said that he intended to stay with the lombax 'til he found his family… It was a hopeless cause, yes, but that just gave him an ex-

No, no, that wasn't right. Technically, that family was long gone, but the two still had one another. Oh well, what the senior caretaker didn't know wouldn't hurt him, after all.

As the arm wrapped around Clank's small frame unconsciously drew him closer to the slumbering lombax, he decided that everyone was allowed an excuse, every now and then.


	2. At Peace

Oh, he was aware of the fate that he'd been pushed out of.

There was absolutely no denying that fact. Ratchet thought it had been trippy moving through areas where movement slowed to a crawl… well, that had nothing on this. Even the second time- the time that, technically, nothing happened- he'd had a hard time believing it.

Alister? Alister Azimuth, murdering him in cold blood? Maybe he'd been too close to see how deeply rooted the desire to bring the lombaxes back was. Bringing their race back had sounded fantastic…but that hadn't been his focus, he'd dedicated himself to finding Clank. Even before being told that it wasn't a time machine, he'd had his doubts; the reference to the Dimensionator simply made up his mind.

As per usual, Clank and –by contrast, rather unusually- he had been right. But Alister wouldn't take no for an answer.

The lombax's neck still hurt from being pinned up against a building by the elder's wrench; that had actually happened, after all… but it was hard to classify the pain in his chest. Technically, that injury wasn't real…but could such a severe blow be completely undone? The unblemished flesh throbbed again, beneath the blue decal on his armor, and- completely automatically- Ratchet brought a hand up to it, but stopped millicubits from touching it.

Sure, he had been battered and bruised an incredible amount today -even by his own standards- but he had a feeling that this wasn't solely physical trauma…

It had been beyond his logical dreams: another lombax! And not just anyone, a close friend to his father, a companion since childhood! Maybe Ratchet had seen something of the mania in the elder's eyes… heard it in the refusal to see him as his own person, and not Kaden… but he had sincerely hoped that it would not come to…that. In the instance that the General had left he and Clank, he'd had a bizarre sense of déjà vu… in retrospect, it was obvious what it had been; he'd felt it- albeit one hundred times worse- back in Apogee Station, years ago.

But…that just proved that, in the end, he'd done what was right.

Back when they were facing off against Nefarious, he'd meant what he'd said to Clank: that he would support whatever decision his friend made. Upon reaching the Great Clock, however, Ratchet had a feeling that he'd know what that answer would be.

For once, he was absolutely thrilled to have been wrong.

So…the day had had its ups and downs… granted, the slope of said "ups and downs" were high enough to be undefined… But he'd made the right decision, and, in a sense, he'd been rewarded for that…

Who knew, maybe Alister had finally found peace.

In the meantime, though, Ratchet was going to go back to sleep -more or less pass out, that was. With a sigh and a sleepy smile, he hugged the 'captured' Clank closer to himself…just to be sure he was still there. Better to be safe than sorry, right?

…Boy, was he glad that the other was on standby mode…


	3. Excuses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaden…oh Kaden, how could he have _done_ that?

Kaden…oh Kaden, how could he have _done_ that?

General Alister Azimuth was mortified, in retrospect, by his behavior… But he'd been lonely- _so_ lonely- for the longest time. All he'd wanted was someone to connect with. But…he'd had that, for a short time, and thrown it away just as suddenly. Had he really meant what he'd once done? The fact that he might have murdered without actually intending to was horrifying.

Oh Kaden, he was sorry…

Years of isolation… compulsively interfering in the plans of those he deemed evil… Had he slowly been going insane, since the race's departure? Were his acts in the Great Clock simply those of a desperate man? He'd been expecting a confrontation with the younger lombax, true, but he hadn't intended it to end so…miserably… _both_ times.

Perhaps it had been unwise to grow so attached to Ratchet… but…was it really Ratchet that he'd become companions with? At first sight, Alister had mistaken the other for an imposter wearing a holo-guise… just moments later, however, he'd turned around and seen his best friend in the younger lombax's place. True, there was a certain resemblance between the two…but not as much as he'd believed. Kaden…was dead. It was a shame that he could not accept that; he honestly thought that, had he seen Ratchet as his own person, they would have gotten along splendidly. But Alister had not done that, and- in one timeline- both father _and_ son had been gone. He'd truly been alone.

In the Great Clock he had believed that he was fighting for his race. He hadn't known that the Clock's intended purpose had been completely different…and he'd _like_ to say that he wouldn't have made an attempt, had he understood that…but honestly, he could not do so.

After being defeated…he didn't know what took over him. Alister Azimuth simply couldn't comprehend why he'd tampered with the Great Clock, even after all of the explanations…but he had. Immediately, his impromptu adversaries had lurched into action…but there was nothing to be done, without making a sacrifice. It was at that point, having seen the resignation in Ratchet's eyes, that he'd realized that there was more to the younger lombax than he'd known. Moreover, he couldn't let the other pay with his life for Alister's mistake.

It didn't just end there, either. Having witnessed the way those two- both Ratchet and Clank- got along, there was another familiar sight to be found: an impossibly close companionship and desperation to stay together. He'd already taken that away once. It hadn't registered, through his own urgency, but the little robot had been crushed as he fled the enraged- and, at the time, _only_ \- lombax headed for the Orvus Chamber. General Alister Azimuth simply couldn't do that again, upon regaining his sanity.

Oh Kaden, he was so sorry…

He was so very, very sorry, Clank…Ratchet…


	4. On His Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sigmund deserved a chapter...he's adorable in a neurotic, enthusiastic sort of way...

All things considered, Sigmund was pretty darn happy…and unnervingly calm, too, never mind the questions that contradiction inspired.

For a short spell, he hadn't been alone with the Zoni, anymore! That was over now, of course, but it sure had been cool while it lasted! He'd made a great new friend, been involved in some actual _adventure_ , and he knew people _on the outside_ , now, too! Was that incredible or what?

Granted, it had been absolutely terrifying when that lombax had started tearing the place up…and the hypersonic brainwave scrambler had been a pain in the assembly-line, too…but he was glad that the monotony he'd been living in for the past few thousand years had been broken. How ironic was that? He lived in a clock, and he had absolutely no idea how long he'd been doing so.

But he had new responsibilities now, being senior caretaker and all. Yeah, that was right: Senior. Care. Taker. He actually got to _use_ the Chronoscepter, not just look at it!

Vaguely, he pondered his own theme music, but was interrupted by one of the Zoni zooming past, dangerously close to his face. Half-heartedly, Sigmund shook one fist in its general direction, but was simply too cheerful to let it get him down. They'd been bizarrely active, lately, babbling on excitedly about how they had gotten to play in the outside world.

Once upon a time, (well, 'once upon an hour', really) Sigmund had wondered if they realized that they'd only upgraded a ship, and then waited around in a containment device until they could be brought home. When he asked about it, though, one being had cackled merrily and stated that it had gotten to play tag, and another had claimed that it had been involved in a game of hide-and-seek. Oddly, all those Zoni present at that time had stared blankly at one another for a nanosecond, then giddily cried "Wheee!" and zipped away, as though expecting Sigmund to follow them on a wild sandmouse hunt.

He suspected that it was the lombax's fault.

The smaller, more well-mannered one, that was; not the insane 'I-think-I'll-go-on-a-rampage-and-rip-time-into-tiny-shreds' one. Oh, right…Clank had called him 'Ratchet', hadn't he? It was an odd name for a lombax, really…but he'd sure been helpful, lending a hand in fixing up what the other had smashed, diced, blasted or otherwise ruined. Of course, Sigmund didn't know him well at all, but he could see why Clank would want to keep traveling with the organic being… he seemed nice enough, at least, and definitely entertaining. Not to mention that he'd tried to help Orvus… there was very little that could compete with that, in Sigmund's mind.

He was sad that the Clock's creator was gone…but to say that he hadn't assumed so would be a lie. Surely, Orvus would have returned home, were he able to. It still hurt, though; knowing that leader of the Zoni would never rant about the Clock's purpose or tell his favorite jokes again.

In a way, Clank had helped fill that void. There was no doubt that he was Orvus's successor; they were just so similar! The sense of humor, the intellect, the _laugh_ … For a while, Sigmund had forgotten that the smaller robot hadn't been there all of his existence. Clank had inspired Sigmund in a way that he couldn't fully describe; he was filling the role of senior caretaker now, after all, something that he hadn't even _dreamed_ of in the past. Thanks to the other mech, he'd gained a sense of self-worth and five kilocubits of confidence. Sigmund knew that he'd always be grateful for that.

But…he was alone again, now, with two-hundred-and-forty-one Zoni (forty of which were buzzing about broadcasting messages like "Tag! You are it!" or "Ready or not, I am coming for you!") and one smart-aleck computer.

…Maybe it would be okay to open a window into history? Just a window to view, not a portal to interfere… A hint of his former nervous disposition returning, he glanced around warily, then went back into the orientation room... Maybe, if he was lucky, he could find something about Clank's past…

Images briefly flickered over the monitor mounted on the wall, before one caught Sigmund's fancy…

 _"Wow, the complete_ Secret Agent Clank _holovid collection…This guy's your biggest fan!"_

 _"That is rather…disturbing…"_

… _Secret Agent Clank_? Awesome!


	5. Status Quo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It had been a long day, running from planet to planet like they had; Aphelion didn't want to mention it, just yet, but she was definitely beginning to run low on fuel…

It had been a long day, running from planet to planet like they had; Aphelion didn't want to mention it, just yet, but she was definitely beginning to run low on fuel…

She couldn't complain right now, though, she had both of her boys back after all. Sure, she hadn't been part of the little adventuring party for a grand amount of time, but she fancied herself to be an important component of the group dynamic now. Those two wouldn't actually _get_ anywhere without her, now would they? Well…most of the time, anyway.

It had certainly been a shock, waking up on Fastoon to a sight she thought would be lost to her forever… Aphelion had certainly grown fond of the duo during the time she'd spent helping them from place to place… But that had changed far too soon for her liking…

The generally pleasant- though decidedly chaotic- atmosphere that she associated with Ratchet and Clank had disappeared, right along with the robot. During those years that they'd spent looking for him, however, Aphelion had really gotten to know Ratchet as himself, and not just one half of the galaxy-saving pair. When she looked back at it, it wasn't that surprising that they'd become good friends.

Over the course of their search, when things were looking down and the lombax was growing depressed, she would relay anecdotes from Fastoon and spin tales she'd learned from the culture. It didn't always do the trick, but sometimes it helped remind Ratchet that he still had a friend nearby, ready to lend a…wing. In return, on days where they could spare the time, he'd tell stories about past adventures or describe- sometimes in stunning (or frightening, depending on what it was) detail- ideas for future inventions or recount past devices he'd created.

Certainly, Aphelion was guilty of coddling the lombax on occasion, but- at the time being- he was the only one that she had. Besides…he'd been through the ringer on more than one occasion, he needed someone to look out for him, in more ways than just making sure that he didn't do something off the charts on the "unconventional" meter.

Oh, she'd been thrilled to see Clank again! It was a shame that he'd been so worried, though, despite the fact that she understood where the worry spawned from. This feeling of elation had only made the wait at Nefarious's space station all the more nerve-wracking, when nobody contacted her for hours on end. Sure, it wasn't uncommon for missions to take quite some time, but that had been ridiculous!

And at that time, another ship had docked: an old, refurbished ship, antiquated by at _least_ ten years. It had looked ridiculous; all decoration and over-the-top fire-power, sorely lacking in defense… and there those two were again. How in the three hells of Bogon, she didn't know. She'd wanted to ask, of course, but there was definitely a mission still on-going; Aphelion could tell simply from looking at the way that Ratchet carried himself.

It was times like that when she wished to IRIS that she were an android! What could have happened to cause the collapse of the space station? And, more importantly, _why_ were her self-appointed charges hanging from the wing of another ship? It was far too long- though in reality, she realized, it was more akin to five decacrons- before she was able to sit the pair down and ask them. Even then, they were on their way to the Great Clock… on the path to seeing history being rewritten.

She couldn't believe it, even when she witnessed it. That other lombax had seemed so kind; he'd acted as a mentor, whether or not it had been needed… and he'd _killed_ one of those under her protection! And then…then he hadn't. One moment the strike hit home, the next it soared overhead, mostly harmless. What, she had wanted to demand, was going on?

But yet again…it was all over almost as soon as it had begun. Aphelion had been approached not long after the grisly scene, guaranteed that almost everyone- and every _thing_ \- was okay. She'd been informed, by an almost toneless explanation, that Ratchet was going to help fix up the Great Clock…and then they'd be on their way once more. Without Clank.

Oh! She'd wanted so badly to sooth her charge! She'd yearned to tell him that it was alright, and that they'd see Clank again! But…something stopped her. Even now she did not know what that was, but something kept her from offering words of- possibly false- encouragement. Aphelion would have liked to think that it was her better judgment, but it was impossible to say.

Things had turned out alright, in the end, though. She'd been hesitant to seal her cockpit, even when instructed to do so; and she'd slowed to a crawl when she took sight of the little mech, running like he was fleeing from a pack of ameboids towards them.

What a relief it had been, to be assured that everything was going to be okay. That promise had not been made verbally, no, as some liked to say, actions did speak louder than words, after all. What had reassured her was the borderline-maniacal grin that Ratchet sported, his tight grip on the navigation control…and more than anything else, the impossibly relaxed position that Clank adopted in the face of such potential danger.

Everything was going to go back to normal… _their_ version of normal, that was.


End file.
